Wooing Grinch Everdeen
by merciki
Summary: Katniss Everdeen never liked Christmas. She often said she hated it. But this year, someone seems to want to change her mind.


My deepest thanks to two amazing women, tanb and titania522 who did me the honor of betaing this story with their talent. thank you so much, ladies, you rock !

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 **Dec.1** **st** **.**

It all started on the first day of December. A rainy, grey, otherwise ordinary Tuesday, filled with too much caffeine, an uncooperative microscope, heels instead of boots, to finish with a headache that Katniss had to bear until the last hour of work.

Otherwise known as a bad day.

Katniss was pretty sure there was more to come, though, when she opened her mailbox. Surely a lost invoice of some kind, or the cancellation of her subscription to _Science Magazine_ , or maybe more taxes to pay.

She grabbed the papers, sorting through them carefully. Nothing seemed too bad or out of the ordinary, except for a large brown envelope with her name typed carefully on it. Just two words. Katniss Everdeen. Without any mistakes, which was really unusual.

She carefully opened the lid of the envelope, wondering what kind of joke this was. There was no visible letter inside, no written note or anything. She took her courage, and looked in it, trying to find out who would be crazy enough to send her something empty until she spotted several shiny little sachets inside, all of different colours.

She turned the envelope carefully to find out where it came from, while taking her keys out of her purse. There wasn't a sender's address even though the stamp showed it had been posted from somewhere in Panem, which was an absolutely useless clue, as the town now had over 250,000 inhabitants.

As soon as she entered her small home, she tossed aside her keys and purse and began to take a better look at what was inside the envelope. The small sachets poured out onto the counter of her kitchen.

She smiled when she saw them. Half a dozen perfume samples, so diverse in smell and color, from the ordinary eau de cologne she was wearing at the moment to a richer French eau de parfum.

She never realized that these were the perfumes she had spoken about to her friends, when she said she wanted to try something else.

 **Dec. 8** **th** **.**

"Good morning, everyone!"

Beetee Latier came into the large open space the teachers used as a cafeteria. Katniss waved back at her colleague, from her table on the far side of the room, focusing on the little bag she had in her hand. Another one. Every day since December 1st she had found something, either in her mailbox, on her desk at work once, on the mat in front of her door, or like yesterday, at her favorite coffee shop. The gifts ranged from tea bags and paperclips shaped like snowflakes to Apple Cider Spices and even a fortune cookie. All without any mention of who was sending them.

She was picking up her usual coffee – black, no sugar, no cream - at Sae's like every other morning, taking out her usual note from her wallet when the old woman put her hand on hers.

"Not today, girlie. It's already been paid."

"What? Who paid?"

"Somebody. I promised not to tell. Here, that's to go with it."

Sae handed her a little brown paper bag. .

She was now pretty sure it was someone she knew. It took her two days and her amazing detective skills to realize that the person knew her address, how to spell her name, and her habits.

Which narrowed down the list of suspects to around twenty-two, her sister excluded.

The question behind the Who, was … why did this person do all that?

After all, it was common knowledge that Katniss Everdeen hated Christmas.

 **Dec. 11** **th**

"This has to stop now!" Katniss mumbled, seeing a large envelope carefully placed against the front door of her house, waiting for her patiently, it seemed. "Why doesn't he understand I hate Christmas!"

She didn't know why, but it seemed to her her anonymous gifter was a man. Sure, the first gift had been perfumes samples, but so far, nothing had been too feminine. And it didn't look like the package this time contained make-up or anything too girly, really. It was flat, square and light, leaving Katniss with no clue of what to do with it.

She didn't want to care about these gifts. She really didn't. However, she couldn't explain why she kept every single one of them, even the potted basil plant she found yesterday. The only explanation she had for keeping them was a habit, born in time of need, to not waste or throw anything away until it was used to the trim. Moreover, it would have been a waste not to eat the cheese bun she got from Peeta's bakery yesterday.

Peeta! Something clicked in her mind. It must be him, sending her all of these gifts! He was such a Christmas lover, decorating the bakery as soon as Thanksgiving was over, with carols playing all day long, the staff wearing decorated red aprons instead of their usual orange ones.

She grabbed her package, found her keys in her bag before reaching a car, settled down before turning to the direction of the bakery. This had to stop now. He wasn't wasting any more money on her and these stupid little gifts that she would never use. Well, she might have eaten the candies and cheese bun, but only because it was food, right? Right.

As Katniss reached Peeta's bakery, which was only a few blocks away, she started listing every single gift she had received these last eleven days. She didn't want to forget a single one when she asked him for an explanation.

The light was already fading in a beautiful sunset on the horizon, an assortment of oranges, reds and pinks scattered all over the sky. Katniss caught herself thinking Peeta would love it, even imagining him with his sketchbook, the way he always drew on whatever occasion the gang went out for a picnic or a meal. He always had a pen at hand, drawing the most beautiful landscape, giving life to paper sheets over and over again. It was like magic to her eyes, she who couldn't draw a man to save her life.

She parked easily in front of the bakery, and rushed inside, the cold biting her exposed skin with each passing minute. The little bells above the door tinkled joyfully as she entered the warmth of the little shop. Nobody was at the counter, as was the habit when the rush was over and Rue was already home, and Peeta was alone, starting to prepare the next day pastries and breads.

"Mellark! Get out there before I come to kick your ass!"

Katniss crossed her arms across her chest, the scowl lines appearing on her forehead. She knew Peeta knew how much she hated Christmas. Hell, they've known each other for decades now, sharing the same classes from kindergarten to high school, going on from just classmates to best friends, competing for valedictorian, working together on projects, so inseparable that it had earned them the nickname "Everlark". College had separated them, Katniss going to Harvard, while Peeta chose to stay in Panem and take over his family's bakery, his secret wish (and the Christmas present he'd been asking for between age 6 and 9).

"Well, Good afternoon to you too, Katniss!" He smiled, walking out of what Katniss knew was the kitchen, drying his hand on the towel he always kept at his side. "What can I do for you today? Got to warn you, though, we ran out of cheese buns hours ago." Peeta carefully tugged the piece of cloth on his apron's belt, before finishing his sentence. "And I don't have goat cheese anymore, I'm expecting a delivery, so don't start begging me for them."

"I'm not there for your frigging buns, Peeta!"

"I don't know whether I should be sad or offended by your comment, Everdeen." His lips were curving at one end, clearly mocking her.

"You're hilarious. But you have to stop this mess right now! You know I hate Christmas!"

"Well, it's not like I haven't heard about it in the last what, fifteen years? And I have to stop what, exactly?"

"This!" She threw the package she found on her doorstep to him and it hit him right in the middle of his broad chest with a thump that kind of pleased her.

"And what exactly is that?" he asked, curious, as he watched the thin brown sheet in his hands.

"As if you didn't know, asshole."

"Buns, asshole, you seem obsessed with my body today, sweetheart."

"Do. Not. Call. Me. Sweetheart" Katniss threatened through her teeth, her anger growing by the minute.

"Yeah, and then you'll threaten to put an arrow through my heart with your bow… But what's new about that?"

"You're hilarious, you know that, Mellark?"

"Well, my humor took me from "asshole" to "Mellark", so I'll take it any day. So? Package? What's inside?"

"You don't know?"

"How would I know? I'm a baker, not a fortune-teller. I can't read in flour to tell you what's inside that package, Katniss."

"You sure you don't know?"

"How could I? Where did it come from?"

"My doorstep."

"Your doorstep? Maybe somebody made a mistake and thought you were Miss Trinket?"

Miss Trinket, or "Effie" as she told Katniss to call her time and time again, was not only a cat lady (Katniss stopped her last count of the beasts at seventeen), but also a TV shopping addict, receiving dozens of packages per week. How she could afford that was beyond Katniss's comprehension.

"No, it's for me. And I know it's someone that knows me! Look, no mistake in spelling my name!" If it wasn't Peeta that was behind sending her these gifts, then who? Her sister?

"Well, the mystery thickens, Watson. Who could have sent you this? Have you looked at what's inside?" Suddenly, Peeta's face lit up. "Katniss! Maybe you have a secret admirer?"

"Peeta, are you sure it's not you?"

"Me what?"

"That sends me all these gifts?"

"Gifts as in plural? There are others?"

It was suddenly too much. She needed to get all this off her chest to clear her mind and find who the culprit was. Just so she'd know who to shoot an arrow at.

"Yeah…." She sighed.

"Take a seat, I'll be right back." Peeta told her as he hurried to the kitchen behind the counter. Katniss looked around, spotting her favorite table in the corner, half hidden by the pastries counter. She threw her bag on the comfortable bench seat lining the wall, surrounded by the smell of the freshly baked cinnamon rolls in the display right next to them.

"Here we are! I thought you could use a hot chocolate while you tell me all about this."

He put two mugs of the hot beverages, and she knew he made hers with a hint of cinnamon under the whipped cream. Just the way she liked it. Before sitting in front of her, he took a couple of the rolls she had spotted and put them on a napkin.

"Now, tell me everything."

"You sure you didn't put this package on my mat?"

"I can swear on whatever you want that I'm not the one putting this thing on your mat, Katniss. Don't you want to know what's inside?"

"Open it." She handed him the package.

"No, it's yours!"

"Please, Peeta, open it."

"Okay, if you're sure…"

Katniss nodded her agreement, and Peeta started to open the package. She couldn't see what was inside, as the brown paper hid it.

"You're going to love it, Kat." Peeta rarely used her old nickname now, the one he gave her when they were starting middle school, when she didn't want to be a "Katniss" but a "Katherine" because obviously she didn't like her name at the time. He finally turned what was in his hands, as a smile lit his face. "It's obviously someone who knows you really well… How many people know The Princess Bride is your favorite movie?"

Eyes wide open, Katniss finally saw what was in the package. A seemingly original poster of her favorite movie, carefully folded and put under a protective plastic wrapping.

"Oh, my god …. How does he know?"

"He?"

"Yeah, as I thought it was you, I started to refer to this anonymous gifter as a "he", you know? But I really don't know who it is."

She put her head in her hands, thinking hard about who could be that person that kept sending her presents.

"You know what? We'll make a list. Of persons, then of the gifts. We'll cross the possibilities, and a name will emerge, right?"

"Right. You're a genius, Peeta!"

They immediately started on the lists.

 **Dec. 18th**

It didn't stop.

The gifts kept on coming, every day, without exception.

All the names on the list had been crossed.

So she started a new one, with new names.

 **Dec.22nd**

She got a star on this day.

Amazed, she looked at the certificate in her hands, proudly displaying that Katniss Everdeen was now the owner of a star named Aldebaran, the most luminous in the Taurus constellation.

She couldn't take her eyes from the certificate, really. It was obviously something hand-made, not a real one (and moreover, Aldebaran would cost billions of dollars) but the thought was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

She was almost sad that the flow of gifts was about to end.

Because tomorrow was the 24th of December, and the last day of gifting.

She was torn between finding out who was the sender, and not find out. Because after all, she hated Christmas.

Right?

 **Dec.23rd**

"So, did you get something today?"

"No, not yet. But the day's still young, so I don't give up!"

"Katniss, be careful, you sound like you actually like Christmas."

"Well, I don't. I, well, I hate it."

"Right. Sure. Try to convince yourself, first, Sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart, Peeta!"

She heard the sound of her doorbell, on the other side of her house.

"Someone's at the door, I'll call you later?"

"Sure! Bye"

Katniss put the telephone on her kitchen counter, before turning and opening the front door.

There, in front of her was a boy, that couldn't be more than 8 years old, looking at her.

"You're Katniss?"

"I'm Katniss, yes."

"There, it's for you."

He handed her a white envelope that she took, before he turned and ran down the stairs.

"Wait! Who gave this to you?"

"Santa!" the kid shouted, laughing.

Katniss smiled, as she took in the envelope, looking at it.

Closing the door, she went directly to her couch, sitting on her bent leg, and opened the lid.

Inside was a folded paper.

She took a deep breath before opening it.

She took an even deeper breath before starting to read it.

" _My dear Katniss,_

 _I never knew how to tell you all the beautiful things Christmas meant._

 _It used to mean you laughing, throwing snowballs at Prim and your dad._

 _It used to mean your eyes were sparkling with joy as you sang the carols with the Church Choir._

 _It was you, working so hard to give your mother and sister a little more when times were so hard, not even caring if you would have a gift, as long as Prim had one._

 _It was you, always giving to others without a thought about yourself._

 _I wanted nothing more than to look at you as you opened your presents during this last month. But then you would have known who sent them, and where would have been the fun?_

 _I wanted this Christmas to be yours entirely, for you to be spoiled the way you never were._

 _The way I hope you would allow me to spoil you for the rest of your life._

 _I've been in love with you for so long, I don't even know what it feels not to love you._

 _I know you probably don't love me the way I do… and it's okay._

 _Tomorrow, I'll be in the park at 4:00pm, near the pond you like so much, because it reminds you of your father's lake._

 _The rest is up to you._

 _Love you, always._ "

 **Dec. 24th**

Katniss finally began to understand what Einstein meant about relativity. Really. To her, it seemed at least twenty hours had passed since she woke up this morning, when on the other end, the clock only showed 11:42 am.

She had spent the whole morning in her house, trying to find something to do to pass time, and failing miserably. Her eyes were searching for the nearest clock, phone, whatever could tell her what time it was.

Just to realize something. Time had decided to play with her and slow down its pace, minutes stretching out till they lasted about an eternity. Usually, when she wanted to pass time, she just grabbed a book, or tried to pass a level at Candy Crush, only this time, nothing worked. Not even the promise to go to Peeta's bakery and eat her weight in cheese buns.

No. Her mind was focused on one thing, and one thing only. 4pm, the pond in the park.

Her heart screamed that yes, she should go, throw her arms around the guy's neck and kiss him senseless. Her brain half-reasoned with her, whispering that maybe it was a woman who would be coming – in that case, no kissing (not that she had anything against women dating each other, she just didn't swing that way) – or that maybe it was a prank, that someone had made fun of her for an entire month, knowing how much she hated Christmas.

Hated. That was the word. The concept laced around her feelings towards everything Christmas-y, the frenzy in the shops, the annoying music, the excruciating problems of finding gifts, the waste of money. And really, what was the purpose of Christmas when she lived alone?

She had carefully placed all the gifts she had received since December 1st, except for the ones she had eaten, of course, and tried now to find the missing link between all of them. Who could have possibly sent them? She had turned the question in her head, endlessly, without finding the answer. She had begged, stalked, and threatened her friends to tell her the truth, without any success.

She had no clue about who knew her so well and, according to the letter, who loved her.

"This is a total nonsense!" Speaking the words aloud made them more real, made her realize how crazy going to the park was, meeting someone she didn't know – and for all she knew could be a serial killer with a fetish for Christmas-related things – instead of staying home, sipping on eggnog, watching "A Wonderful Life" for the fiftieth time.

She grabbed her coat, scarf, purse, and gloves and headed outside, with every intention of going to Peeta's bakery, grab her fill of cheese buns and maybe (surely) some cinnamon rolls and donuts to get her through her evening. Better to be prepared.

She ignored the lights and decorations Peeta put in his shop. This year, he had made tinsels out of gingerbread men, dancing on a thin rope in the large windows of the bakery, and there was a huge glass bowl filled with small cookies that he gave freely to whichever kid came by.

"Hey Katniss! " He smiled at her, all the while holding out a loaf of bread to an old lady, before he turned to pick another one on the shelf.

"You said you wanted an apple and goat focaccia Mrs Flingerstone? Will this one do?" He showed the woman one of his latest concoctions – something Katniss was really fond of – and she nodded her approval.

"Yes, thank you, Peeta dear. You'll write it down, right?"

"No problem, Mrs F. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yes. I will be with my grand-daughter. She's beautiful, you'll see! She's about your age, and well, maybe sparks will fly!"

"We'll see, Mrs F., we'll see."

The little bells above the doors chimed – again – letting Mrs Flingerstone out.

"Wow, she was totally hitting on you, you know?" Katniss smiled as she approached the counter, taking in the assortment of pastries displayed. Good, cheese buns were there.

"Good to see you too, Katniss! What are you doing here? Not waiting in the park for your knight in shining armor. The one who will defeat the Grinch that you are?"

"You're hilarious. So, you're the new golden boy of the block? Every grandma tries to make you date her granddaughters?"

"Apparently, though Mrs Flingerstone is quite insistent, even though I told her that I had no interest, but well. She's stubborn."

"Oh, maybe the grand-daughter is hot and sexy, all blonde and blue eyes, with big boobs."

"And maybe I'm really not interested. Plus it wouldn't be fair to date somebody while thinking of someone else, right?"

"What! Peeta! Why didn't you tell me you have someone in your life?"

"Well, because I don't."

"But what you just said…"

"I have this woman I kind of like, that's all."

"Then why don't you tell her?"

"Then, Katniss, why don't you go to the park to meet your stranger?"

"It's not the same, and you know it."

"It's exactly the same. Lack of courage, cowardice. That's what it is, sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart!" she grumbled, as a blush came to her cheeks. Who was this girl? Why had Peeta never mentioned her before? Katniss felt flustered in ways she couldn't explain. "And in my case, it's not cowardice, it's protection. What if this man is a serial killer?"

"Of course he is, and as he knows your address, your habits, a lot of things about you, he has to wait to be in a public place to kill you. Find another excuse, Katniss, will you?"

She was speechless, as usual when she argued with Peeta and he calmly destroyed every single one of her arguments.

"Okay. I'll go. But on one condition."

"I'm not dating Mrs F's granddaughter."

"Well, god forbid. I'll go, but you'll have to tell this girl what you feel about her. Deal?"

Katniss held her hand over the counter. It took Peeta only a few seconds to wipe his hand on his apron and shake hers, agreeing on their bet.

"Now, can I have cheese buns, cinnamon rolls and donuts?"

"Sure. And let me add a little something for you to test. You'll tell me if I can should it okay?"

The sun was slowly going down on the trees of the park. Leaves, once beautiful, yellow and crispy were now faded and full of water, half torn or destroyed under the thick blanket of snow spread on the alleys. The pond was a few yards away, after the curve on Katniss's right, far away and yet so close.

She looked around, making sure there were plenty of people strolling the cobblestone of the park, kids laughing, trying to make snowballs and throw them at their parents, who were busy trying to avoid them, or chasing the dogs playing in the snow.

People around – check.

Time – check. Three minutes to go.

Weapon – check. Just in case, she had a pepper spray.

Courage - Slowly fading away.

She didn't know why she feared to take these last steps. The only thoughts she had after leaving the bakery were of Peeta's mysterious interest. How could she have missed her long-time friend had something in sight. How could he not tell her? Did she become such a stranger to him that he didn't want to share his life with her?

And why did it bother so damn much that he wanted to date someone? It wasn't as if they were going to end up together, right?

The bell of the church rang four times in the background. Katniss squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and walked the remaining feet towards the pond.

On the bench, in front of it, a man was sitting, a leather jacket on, under which a green hoodie was hiding his hair. His hands were stuffed in his pockets.

She wondered if she should be the one to talk, because obviously, talking wasn't her forte.

"You're almost late, Katniss."

She knew this voice. No. It coudn't be. She started walking forward, closer to the bench, trying to gather clues, to help her sort out this Cluedo in front of her.

"No, don't move, I need to talk to you first." She heard an intake of breath before the voice started again. "I'm sorry if I frightened you, really. It wasn't my goal." She really knew this tone, this deep baritone… "But you're such a Grinch, and I wanted to show you the good side of Christmas, when people care for you. And I figured it was quite time to tell you how I felt."

She smiled, a warmth spreading through her body. "I've loved you, really loved you for a long time, Katniss. At first, I thought it was just what friends were supposed to feel, but with time, it became deeper, and stronger. I needed to tell you, Katniss, and I want you to know I'll be here for you in whatever way you want me to be."

She came closer to the bench, took her glove out of her right hand, and put it over the hood that covered the mop of blonde hair she knew so well.

"It's okay Peeta. I don't want you out of my life ever."

He faced her, rising from his sitting position, his blue eyes shining in the afternoon light.

"What do you mean, Katniss? You knew it was me?"

"Yeah, just now when you called me Grinch…."

"You're mad at me?"

She thought for a while, her eyes closed.

"I thought I was, but no. You're too damn kind."

"Kat, I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have said these things to you without warning, but –"

Her lips shut his. They were cold, as he probably arrived early, a bit chapped but so plump and delicious. Right after she started kissing him, when her lips were on his, she understood why, why she couldn't stand seeing him with some other girl, whether she was blonde, red-headed or a brunette like she was. She got it. She was the one he was thinking about. He was the one she hoped would send her gifts for Christmas, the one who would spend all her Chritmases with her, as a family. And maybe, one day, build their own family.

She lingered on his lips, discovering their design, how they formed a little crevice on the top, let her tongue find out his weak spots to try to gain an entrance into his mouth, feeling the urge to taste his tongue, to discover more of him.

She felt drunk, her senses overwhelmed in the smell that made him Peeta – the lingering odor of the bakery, and something more, something that was so him she would have recognized it anywhere. She never wanted to be deprived of this smell, she realized.

Her hands climbed up his arms, and he shivered when she touched the skin of his neck with her bare fingers, before they found the warmth of his hair again. She felt his sliding along her ribcage until they settled on her hips, dragging her in his embrace.

He was the warmth to her cold, the sun to her moon, the ying to her yang. The missing piece of her soul she gave up on finding so many years ago.

They kissed until the first rays of the moon touched them.

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